Chapter 60
Vin screamed as he charged at Chainz with the kitchen knife, trying to drive the blade into the crime lord’s stomach and end this battle once and for all. Chainz was ready for an attack like this, though, taking a big step back and wrapping one of his huge hands around Vin’s wrist.
But Vin’s strength and ferocity seemed to surprise the crime boss momentarily.
Instead of stopping the strike in its path, Vin’s initial assault pushed Chainz’s arm back far enough that the tip of the knife buried itself into the big man’s stomach.
Unfortunately for Vin, the blade only penetrated about an inch into Chainz’s abdomen.
Even more unfortunate, the sudden stabbing pain enraged Chainz all the more. He pushed back against Vin, even managing to use his injured left arm to brace against his torso as he slammed Vin into the kitchen counter back first.
Vin cried out as he forcibly bent back over the hard surface. Chainz moved his meaty hand around the handle of the knife, which Vin still held tight. Using just one hand, he jerked the blade away from his stomach and bent it up and back, arcing it down toward Vin’s chest.
Panicking now, Vin grabbed Chainz’s fist with his other hand, desperately pushing up while Chainz continued pushing down. His ribs were on fire as he bent uncomfortably over the counter, and his boots were barely touching the floor, giving him very little in terms of leverage.
Vin watched helplessly as the knife slowly but steadily moved down toward his chest. He squirmed as best he could, unable to angle the knife away but still able to slightly angle his body. What would have been a fatal stab to the chest ended up digging painfully into his shoulder.
Vin screamed in agony as the slicing pain of the blade slowly pushed into his flesh. He gritted his teeth, moaning and grunting at the torturous pain as saliva pushed through his teeth and lips.
He couldn’t match Chainz in terms of strength, and he didn’t think any normal strike would be enough to move him away.
Vin decided he needed to go for broke. He let go of Chainz’s hand, and instead of punching, he reached up and dug his thumb into the ghastly gunshot wound in Chainz’s left shoulder.
His finger met wet, sticky flesh and muscle, and he thought he could actually feel the bullet in there.
Vin twisted his finger, and Chainz howled in pain, instantly backing off.
He let go of the knife and backed up enough so Vin could kick out and strike him in the chest, pushing him back even more.
Chainz’s eyes were wide, his face flush with redness as his lips pulled back like an angry grizzly bear, showing off a metallic grill instead of fangs.
Vin reached up, held his breath, and yanked the knife out from his shoulder and a cry of pain and held onto it tight.
Chainz tried to advance again, but Vin was ready for him, swiping back and forth with the knife, ready to slice deep gashes in his opponent.
Going in for a stab hadn’t worked. Chainz was too strong and too prepared for that.
But if Vin could get lucky and hit an artery with a swipe, this could all be over.
Chainz backed up for a second and then tried to charge through, reaching for Vin’s throat. But Vin was ready for him and sliced a gash into the crime lord’s forearm. Chainz roared, and Vin wasn’t sure whether it was more in pain or rage.
He charged in again, and Vin swiped at his neck this time. Chainz jerked back in time to avoid a fatal slash to the throat, but Vin’s blade tasted blood when it connected with Chainz’s face, slicing through the flesh of his cheekbone and passing up through his eyelids and eyeball.
Chainz screeched, making a high-pitched noise Vin didn’t think the big man capable of as he spilled blood from his arm and face, clutching at the mess where his eye used to be. Vin tried to use this to his advantage, rushing in to end this fight finally.
Chainz, however, was able to foresee this despite the pain and panic he was experiencing. He charged at Vin, coming in low, wrapping his arms around Vin’s waist, and tackling him through the doorframe onto the porch.
They collapsed together on the old, chipped wood of the porch, and Vin had managed to maintain his grip on the knife.
But Chainz had noticed this. He leaned his bulky body down on Vin to hold him in place while grabbing his wrist with his less injured arm.
Chainz slammed Vin’s arm down into the wood several times, and eventually, Vin’s fingers came loose.
The knife skittered away, and Chainz cried out in victory.
He pulled himself up to his knees, still keeping Vin in place, and he started to hammer down at him with a sledgehammer-like fist. Vin tried to cover up, but every blow hit with world-ending power and fury.
Their punches weren’t just simple flailing and desperation.
They were targeted, and each one was thrown with the intent to kill.
Vin tried to cover his face and throat, keeping his arms as a shield around his most sensitive areas. But Chainz was relentless.
Now, with the power of adrenaline coursing through him, Chainz was using both arms. While the arm with the gunshot wound struck with far less strength than the other, it was still hugely powerful. Vin knew this was it. He had no way out. This pummeling would be his undoing.
The hammer-like punches were breaking through Vin’s meager defenses, and soon he was feeling Chainz’s rock-sized fists pounding into his head and jaw.
Each blow that got through rattled his aching head, and he couldn’t struggle beneath the weight of his opponent due to the crushing pain of his broken ribs.
Eventually, Chainz broke off the furious onslaught, just as Vin knew he could no longer defend himself. Both of his hands came down and wrapped around Vin’s throat, once more closing off his windpipe and causing the smaller man to gasp for oxygen.
Chainz’s face was a mess of blood and gore.
The remnant of his eye was disgusting. It was a slashed-out, oozing cavity in his face, and the pain it was causing must have been unreal.
Blood poured down over his lips, coating the grill on his teeth with sticky redness.
Vin gaped up at him, trying desperately to strike up at Chainz, but nothing was working.
He couldn’t even reach the horrible shoulder wound to duplicate the trick that had saved him in the kitchen.
This was it. There was no trick that would save him now. Vin felt the world around him grow dim. The sounds around him were muffled, as though he were underwater. All he could see was Chainz’s enraged and triumphant face as he squeezed the life out of him.
I’m sorry, Deb, he thought as the universe darkened. I’m sorry, Jimmy. I love you both.
Just as the last flicker of life was desperately trying and failing to cling to the mortal coil, a booming shot rang out, and through his darkening view of the world, Vin watched Chainz’s face explode.
A massive blast ripped its way into the dead center of his face, creating a shower of blood, tissue, bones, and teeth. His extreme grip on Vin’s throat instantly ceased, and Vin pulled a painful, gasping breath in through his now bruised windpipe.
Chainz’s body slid to the side, thumping onto the porch as Vin tried desperately to push the huge man off of him.
He was so relieved, so insanely shocked, that he hadn’t even questioned what had happened.
But now, as he stared dumbfounded at Chainz’s dead body, blood and meat still pouring out of the gaping hole in his face, Vin’s mind spun with the implications.
What happened? Who had done this? Vin pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, turning to look out at the front yard of the farmhouse. There, standing just beyond the porch, holding the shotgun Chainz had been using just a few moments before, stood Sean.
Vin gaped at his one-time friend turned attempted killer. Sean looked oddly calm but kept the shotgun gripped tightly in his hands. He wore the signs of a hellacious beating, complete with bandages on his face, some swelling, and multiple bruises.
But that hadn't happened at the reservation. It only took Vin a second to realize those were old wounds, inflicted days ago at the very least.
Their eyes met, and Sean’s jaw was clenched tight.
He had clearly escaped the trap laid at the reservation, and Vin wondered how many other members of the Chain Gang had made the trip back with him.
That didn’t matter, though. What mattered was Sean was here, and he had saved Vin’s life at the very moment Chainz was about to end him.
“Sean?” Vin asked, having nothing more profound to say as his former friend appeared in front of him.
Vin struggled to pull himself up, using the porch’s railing as leverage.
His shoulder and ribs screamed at him, and his head was pounding as the result of a definite concussion.
It was difficult to form a single thought, let alone have an exchange, but he still had enough left in him to question Sean and discover his intentions.
He didn’t have to wait long to find out.
“Get the fuck away from my house,” Sean spat, cocking the shotgun and raising it at Vin. Before Vin could object or try anything, Sean pulled the trigger.